At Any Price

My eyes bugged. “Positions? It’s just one night.”

Heath seemed to be stifling laughter. “Yeah—one night, who knows how many times that means? He’s young, very fit, he’s probably good for at least two, probably three. More if it’s been as long as he says it’s been. Eight months. Christ.”

“What?” I screeched, horrified.

“Doll, you act like you’re getting your legs waxed or something—well, admittedly it’s your first time so it will hurt a little, but I can guarantee you’re going to be having too much fun to notice. Just hope that he’s not really big—”

I clapped my hands over my ears as if to block off the rest of his diatribe.

“Mia,” he said and waited until I dropped my hands. “Mia, I’m not shitting now. If you can’t even talk about it like this, how in the hell are you going to go through with it?”

I watched him for a moment. My best friend since the eighth grade. We were each other’s only comfort during some of the worst years of our lives—growing up in a small high desert community as awkward misfits, the both of us. When he came out in the ninth grade, I was the first person he told. When my boyfriend sexually assaulted me in the tenth grade, he was the first person I told.

I shook my head. “I thought it would be just as simple as me drinking a bottle of wine and then lying back and thinking of medical school.”

He gave me a sad smile. “It’s never even occurred to you that you might enjoy it, has it?”

I shrugged. “You’ve screened the guy. You say he’s trustworthy. He won’t hurt me?”

Heath shook his head. “There are no guarantees. You’ve got to trust that he won’t. I tried my hardest. Had him investigated. No criminal record, no dirty rumors of deviant behavior.”

I ran a hand through my hair and began to twirl the dark brown end of it nervously around my forefinger.

Heath cleared his throat. “I gotta ask and I know it’s a really personal question but… did you start taking your pills from Planned Parenthood?”

I nodded. I’d started my period four weeks before and started the Pill at the prescribed time.

“He’s cleared, medically. I saw the report with my own eyes.”

I fidgeted. I wanted to back out. But I’d never in a million years admit that to Heath because he’d jump on that hesitation like a Golden Eagle swooping down on a rattlesnake.

“He’s in the UK rolling out the European launch of the latest game expansion. But it’s not too late to back out of this.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please, Heath! Don’t keep saying that. I need your support right now. I don’t need you to talk me out of this.”

“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t try to talk you out of this.”

And then he approached, plopped himself down on the sofa beside me and wrapped me in his big arms. I planted my face against his broad chest. He smoothed my hair and the panic melted away.

When I left an hour later, I was calm. Reserved. Resigned.

***

I took the entire week off before I left so that I could write, plan and schedule my blogs to be published during my absence. I hoped this would throw readers off the track about what was going on in my personal life. I planted seeds of diversion by mentioning how busy I was getting with my day job. How I’d have to work double shifts for the next little while. White lies to throw the gossips off the trail.

The gossips were already out discussing on other sites when and if the transaction would take place. I had mentioned, briefly, that I would not be able to discuss the results of the auction for many reasons. I’m not sure how many were really interested. My site was about gaming, after all. Most of those guys would rather go on epic raids for their elite gear than get laid—or hear about me getting laid. I understood that. I was one of them.

I also took care of one last thread of unfinished business by telling my mom I was going to be hitting the books heavy for the next few days so I’d be unplugging my phone. It’s true that I was bringing study materials on the plane, but the less I told her, the better.

“You sound tired, Mia. Are you sure you haven’t been studying too much?”

“There’s no such thing as studying too much, Mom. People in my study group have private tutors and one went to a special test prep retreat.” I sighed inwardly, wondering how I would be able to compete with the myriad of hopeful medical students who went to these measures to succeed on their exams. Especially when I’d already proven myself a failure. My chest tightened thinking about how, if I had scored well last year, I’d have my acceptance letter to begin med school in the fall already in my hand.